


Five stages

by irisdouglasiana



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I love grumpy hungover daniel, Post-Season/Series 02, all my ideas are good ideas, au where jack doesn't get shot, hey! first story with angie, it's a gift it's MINE, rose is queen of the world, so many offscreen hookups, suffering from excessive popularity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7065319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisdouglasiana/pseuds/irisdouglasiana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard's in loooooove...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the beginning

Since Angie is in town for a visit, a party is obviously in order, and Howard’s got both the room and an arsenal of obscenely expensive liquor to spare. It starts off benignly: a tour of the grounds, a dip in the pool, and a very civilized dinner prepared by Mr. Jarvis. Once dessert is cleared, the first $500 bottle of whiskey comes out. That’s the cheap one.

“Tastes like money,” Angie remarks, swirling her glass. Things begin to deteriorate from there.

Mr. Jarvis is the first to depart and Mrs. Jarvis follows, adhering strictly to their early bedtime. About thirty minutes later, Daniel falls asleep on Peggy’s shoulder after a beer and a half.

“That’s it?” Jack asks as he and Peggy haul Daniel to his feet. (Jack’s not completely sure how he got invited, but he’s not about to turn down free booze.)

“’S not my fault,” Daniel mumbles. “I have less mass than I used to.”

“You’re heavy enough, Chief,” Jack says as they deposit Daniel on the bed.

Peggy decides to stay with Daniel, and Jack is happy to leave him to her. Back in the living room, the party continues nevertheless. Rose and Howard are the heavyweight champions when it comes to drinking, but Jack and Angie can hold their own quite well. At some point they transition to drinking games, dancing (if it can be called that), and prank calls. When they run out of whiskey around midnight, Rose goes to the kitchen to fetch a few more bottles. Howard tweaks his mustache and follows.

It soon becomes evident that Rose and Howard are not coming back, and after a few minutes the conversation between Jack and Angie peters out and they sit on the couch in awkward silence, finishing up their drinks.

_Ana and Edwin Jarvis, Peggy and Daniel, Rose and Howard, and_ …

Jack and Angie look at each other and immediately scoot further apart on the couch.

* * *

“Rise and shine,” Peggy says with merciless cheer as she walks around the bedroom, shoving the curtains open.

The sun is excruciatingly bright and Daniel is ready to die. “Just go ahead and kill me now,” he groans. He pulls the covers over his face and she yanks them down.

“It’s almost eleven,” she says. “Everybody else has been up for hours.”

“That’s great.” He’s not going anywhere.

Peggy rolls her eyes. “Move. Or I’ll make you move.”

Daniel knows better than take that as an idle threat, so he very carefully sits up, fighting down a wave of nausea. There’s a portrait of Howard Stark directly across the room from him. Daniel glares at it as he gropes around for his crutch.

That’s when he realizes he’s only wearing his undershirt and boxers. That _Peggy_ must have undressed him. He flushes, resisting the urge to crawl back under the blankets and stay there. Permanently.

Peggy seems to have read his mind. “Oh, come on. It’s not like anything I haven’t seen already,” she says, putting her hands on her hips. “What, was I just supposed to drop you on the bed and leave?”

She’s right, of course, but their relationship _is_ still fairly new. He twirls his index finger at her. “Turn around, Peg.”

She throws up her hands but looks away while he changes back into the clothes he was wearing last night. He’s missing his belt and one sock and he just doesn’t have the mental acuity right now to find them. “Is there still breakfast?”

“It should be almost lunch by now, I imagine. Shall I ask Jarvis to make you a Bloody Mary?”

Daniel’s never drinking alcohol again, ever. “Please don’t.”

He does feel slightly better once he’s dressed and on his feet. They make their way very slowly to the kitchen; Peggy with a hand on his elbow to steady him. (Not that he really needs it, but he doesn’t object). It turns out that breakfast is indeed over: Jack headed back to the office hours ago, and the Jarvises took Angie to see Hollywood.

That leaves Howard and Rose sitting in the kitchen, feeding each other strawberries and gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes. They’re both wearing bathrobes and are still dripping all over the floor from a morning swim. They don’t even look up when Daniel and Peggy come in.

Daniel gives Peggy an appalled look. “I think I’ll need that Bloody Mary after all.”


	2. Denial

Angie stumbles across Howard alone by the pool at sunset, having sent away his bevy of production assistants. He seems to be in a thoughtful mood and she’s considering broaching the subject of a potential role in his next film, but then he starts talking and all hope of that goes out the window.

“I think I’m in love,” Howard sighs dreamily.

“That’s…wonderful,” Angie says, trying to think of a graceful way to back out of the conversation.

Howard plunges ahead. “Rose is an incredible woman, did you know that? Beautiful and intelligent, strong and sexy…I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I wrote a poem about her cheekbones; let me share it with you—”

“Uh, maybe another time, but thanks. She’s a special lady, for sure. You got any more dates planned with her?”

He frowns, gazing off into the distance. “She said she’s really busy with work right now.”

That didn’t sound good. “Maybe next week,” Angie offers lamely.

“Rose said it was just sex,” Howard muses. “What could she possibly mean?”

Angie raises an eyebrow. “That it was…just sex?”

“No, no. That can’t be it. I think Rose is trying to send me some sort of message. Women, so complicated.”

Privately, Angie agrees, but she’s not about to go into _that_. “Listen, Mr. Stark,” she says delicately, “Sometimes you can want a certain thing from a special person in your life and they want something else. It doesn’t always work out, and it can be hard to let go, but in the end it’ll be better for both of you. Does that make sense?”

“Sure,” he nods. Then he snaps his fingers. “Jewelry, all dames love jewelry. I’ll send Jarvis to find a brooch that matches her eyes.”

Angie shrugs. Well, she tried…

* * *

“Good lord,” Rose sighs as she opens the box to show Peggy and Angie. The brooch is exquisite; gold and precious stones set in the shape of a peacock. “I can’t fault Howard’s taste, I suppose.”

“You’re not keeping it, are you?” Peggy asks.

Rose looks at her like she’s crazy. “It’s a gift. It’s mine.”

“You know he told me he’s in love with you?” Angie says as she examines the brooch.

“Oh, he told me too,” Rose says. “Repeatedly. And I said thank you, I’m very flattered, but I’m not interested in that level of commitment right now. He thinks I’m playing hard to get. He’s sent me jewelry, chocolate, flowers, wine…”

Peggy cracks her knuckles. “I’m not sure Howard has ever been dumped before. He probably doesn’t realize it yet. Shall I tell him to bug off? I can be very persuasive.”

Rose shrugs. “Why? I like getting flowers and chocolate. I was straightforward with Howard; I’m not leading him on. If he wants to send me gifts, I don’t mind. And if he does get to be too obnoxious…” She grinds her fist into the palm of her other hand nonchalantly. “I suppose I could do without the poetry, though.”

“Bad?” Angie asks.

“Horrendous,” she shudders. “Do you know how many words rhyme with ‘rose’?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for Howard to get a taste of his own medicine, eh?


	3. Anger

“Feel better?” Daniel asks dryly as he bandages Howard’s hand.

“Oh, like you’ve never done it,” Howard mutters, not looking at him.

Daniel eyes the broken plaster across the dining room where Howard punched the wall. He’s not about to admit it, but Howard isn’t wrong: Daniel did punch a wall one time, when he was sixteen. Once was enough to realize it was a bad idea. “What’s this about, Stark?”

Howard lets out a long sigh and buries his face in his uninjured hand. “Women, Chief. Well, _a_ woman.”

“Uh huh. Rose?”

Howard stands up and starts pacing around the room. “So I’m at the Golden Globes last night, right? I’m sitting there enjoying my dinner, catching up with a lady friend I hadn’t seen in a while…” He pauses, seeing Daniel’s raised eyebrow. “Fine, it was several lady friends. And _then_ I look up and I see Rose waltzing on in wearing this magnificent gown covered in diamonds, and she’s got Cary Grant holding onto her right elbow and Clark Gable on her left! Those guys are my friends, my pals, and there they were, hanging off her every word. And then—” he climbs up on the table, waving his arms, “and then Rose smiles at me and says, ‘Hello, Howard,’ and I just—whoa!” He loses his balance and tumbles off the table right into Daniel.

Daniel isn’t prepared to catch him. They both go sprawling and Daniel lands rather badly, the prosthetic twisted at an uncomfortable angle. He tries to shove Howard off of him but the other man doesn’t seem interested in moving. “How can she do this to me?” he moans softly, staring at the ceiling.

Daniel finally succeeds in wiggling out from under him. He winces as he uses his crutch to push himself to his feet and briefly considers how satisfying it would be to use it to knock some sense into Howard. Instead, he offers him a hand up. “I think you need to move on,” he remarks, though as he says it he realizes he’s not the most qualified person to give that particular piece of advice.

Howard shakes his head. “No, I just need to prove my devotion. I’ll ask Peggy to talk to her on my behalf. This needs a woman’s touch.”

“That…is not a good idea.”

“All my ideas are good ones,” Howard snaps.

Daniel thinks back to the Nitrine explosion at Roxxon, the heat vest that killed Chief Dooley, and the Midnight Oil incident. He decides that in the larger scheme of things, this probably isn’t the _worst_ of Howard’s ideas…

* * *

“Cary Grant and Clark Gable?” Daniel asks Rose later that day.

She smiles. “They both asked me to be their date; how could I say no? Cary is a divine dancer, and Clark, those _hands_ —”

“I get the picture,” Daniel says hastily and blushes.

She actually _laughs_ at him.


	4. Bargaining

The answer, of course, is no.

“C’mon Peg, you’re not going to help an old pal out?” Howard wheedles.

“And what exactly did you want me to say to her, Howard?” Peggy asks as she puts her hands on her hips. “That you’d be a wonderful boyfriend? That you treat all the women in your life so well?” She’s none too pleased with Howard’s sense of timing: she’d planned to spend some quality time that afternoon exploring Griffith Park with Angie, as opposed to quality time with Howard in his boudoir. (He’s wearing a bathrobe and slippers. Peggy hopes he’s wearing more clothing under that, but she’s not about to ask.)   

“I _am_ a wonderful boyfriend,” Howard protests. “I’m so great that I have to be shared, that’s all. Not everyone is cut out for that. It’s hard to be this popular.”

“Yes, you certainly seem to suffer from excessive popularity. That’s clearly the problem here. What happened to your hand?”

Howard hides his bandaged hand behind his back. “Nothing. Okay, fine. You won’t talk to Rose for me. What can I say to her to win her back?”

Peggy pulls out a chair and sits down, rubbing her forehead. “Howard, you are my friend, but so is Rose. I don’t wish to see either of you hurt. I think it may be best if…you let this one go.”

“Everyone keeps telling me that, but…” Howard trails off. His voice drops to a whisper. “I _love_ her.”

“You don’t love Rose; you don’t even know her that well,” Peggy explains patiently. “You have a crush on her. There’s a difference. And what you’re going through now, the pain you feel—it’s no different than what you’ve put dozens of women through.”

Howard looks up, startled. It’s clear he has never considered this angle before. For a moment, Peggy thinks she might actually be getting through to him.

But only for a moment. “So what do you think, Peg?” Howard asks as he turns back to his mirror, smoothing down his mustache carefully. “I’d get her roses, but that seems too cliché. I already tried hydrangeas, lilies, and tulips. Maybe daffodils this time?”

Peggy sighs. She did what she could. “Do as you think best, Howard.”

* * *

Howard’s daffodils are beautiful, but they’re dwarfed by the even larger and more elaborate arrangement of sunflowers on Rose’s desk. “Clark dropped them off this morning,” Rose tells Peggy. “Aren’t they lovely? Howard’s are nice too.”

“Very,” Peggy agrees. She turns as the door opens and a delivery man comes in, nearly staggering under the weight of a massive vase filled with peonies.

“Delivery for Miss Roberts?” he asks.

Rose’s eyes widen. “Oh my. Set them over here, please.” She reads the card and smiles. “‘My dear Rose, I am simply mad for you. Please accept this gift as a token of my admiration. Yours fondly, Jimmy.’ How sweet!”

“Jimmy?”

“Oh! James Stewart. We chatted a bit at the Golden Globes the other night. Very funny fellow; I’ll introduce you sometime.”

Peggy can’t help smiling. “I must say, I’m rather astonished.”

Rose grins. “I can’t help being popular, Peggy.”


	5. Depression

Jack _knew_ it was a mistake to go out for drinks with Stark and Sousa, good god what a stupid idea. It had started out fine, he supposed, but by the end of the first round Jack noticed the tears welling up in Stark’s eyes. By the second round, the man was bawling into his drink inconsolably.

Jack would’ve bolted, but Sousa saw him eyeing the door. He gave Jack a Look and muttered, “If I have to suffer, so do you.” So Jack settled back onto his stool and waited until he thought Sousa was sufficiently distracted before attempting his escape, except Sousa was onto him and all Jack got for his efforts was a solid whack on the shins.

“Jesus. Can’t we get Jarvis to pick him up?” Jack asks, rubbing his shins and wincing. “Isn’t this the sort of thing he gets paid for?”

Sousa’s patting Stark awkwardly on the shoulder. He shakes his head. “The Jarvises went up to Santa Barbara for the weekend. It’s their anniversary.”

Stark’s sobbing is getting louder, and people are starting to look at them. Jack glances around the bar covertly and hopes there’s nobody here that he knows. “Fine. Let’s get him back to the car. Time to go, Stark.” He grabs Stark by the elbow and tries to haul him to his feet, but the man refuses to budge.

Sousa gets off the barstool and takes Stark’s other elbow, but he doesn’t seem too steady either. Between the two of them, however, they manage to get Stark upright.

“How much did you drink?” Jack asks as they escort Stark out of the bar.

“One beer,” Sousa says defensively. He stumbles and nearly manages to trip Stark with his crutch.

Stark doesn’t even seem to notice. “How can I live after this?” he asks himself, snot pouring out his nose. “My life is meaningless without love.”

Sousa rolls his eyes. “You’ll get over it.”

“Says the guy who spent an entire year pining after Peggy Carter,” Jack says, unable to resist. Sousa glares at him but doesn’t disagree, and Jack laughs.

Somehow they manage to shove Stark into the back seat, but he clings to Sousa’s arm and refuses to let go. “For Christ’s sake,” Sousa groans, but he slides into the seat next to him.

“He’s all yours,” Jack says as he climbs in the driver’s seat and starts the ignition. Daniel drove them to the bar, but Jack’s pretty sure he knows how to get back to Stark’s place. Kind of.

Ten minutes later, Jack is hopelessly lost. He’s about to swallow his pride and ask his passengers for directions, but then he hears snoring. He glances behind him to see both Sousa and Stark sound asleep in the back seat. Stark’s head is on Sousa’s shoulder and Sousa is drooling slightly.

Jack grins and drives on. He’s never letting them live this one down.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do one of those 5+1 stories, except this is a 1+5.


End file.
